In the Air
by Windsong
Summary: Sulu/Chekov, 55 ficlets total-  11 per chapter .  The path to a relationship takes many tiny steps.


******Title:** In The Air (01/05)  
******Rating:** G to PG-13  
******Word Count:** 2,169  
******Genre:** Romance, Fluff, Humor, Character Study, Drama  
******Summary:** Sulu/Chekov. 11/55 ficlets. The path to a relationship takes many tiny steps.  
******Disclaimer:** _Star Trek_ isn't mine.  
******Author's Notes:** If my brother wants fic, then damnit, he gets fic. Eleven ficlets (out of a possible 55), "Stuff about them getting together/discovering they like each other." These are really clichéd and trite (I'M SORRY ;_;), are not chronological, and don't all occur in the same universe.

* * *

**1) Sports**

To Hikaru, running is strictly a warm-up activity, but his eyes still brighten when Pavel invites him for an early morning jog. Hikaru's pace is steady and patient; the younger man could outdistance him easily, but he keeps pace instead and fills the air with chatter, making Hikaru laugh so hard that his steps skip a beat.

At the end of the run, Pavel is barely winded; Hikaru bends over and catches his breath. "Now," he says once he's recovered, his grin hanging lopsided on his face, "Let's do something else."

Chekov is horrible at fencing, something which baffles both of them—the navigator's never been _bad_at anything before (and Sulu's quick to point out that all of his coaches were Russian). But it's impossible to be bad at running, and so while Pavel struggles to master positions and parries, Hikaru buys running shoes. "I'll learn to like it," he says with a grin.

Pavel wonders: would he do that for anyone else?

* * *

**2) School**

"Check out the new recruits," Hikaru's friend says, giving him a playful nudge that makes his next bite swerve and miss his sandwich. He frowns and gives the gaggle of freshmen a cursory once-over as the other boys at the table comment amongst themselves, pointing out redheads and Orion girls.

"So? Which one do you like?" his roomate asks. Sulu shrugs.

"We're seniors, man," he says. "They're a bit young."

"No harm in looking," someone else retorts.

"So?" his roomate presses.

Hikaru keeps his eyes on his plate and refuses to answer, but he can't get his mind off a mop of dark blond curls.

* * *

**3) House**

"So...this is it," Hikaru says, looking back nervously over his shoulder. Pavel steps inside and adjusts his backpack, his eyes roving the painted walls and wooden floors. "I know it's not much," he continues. "I haven't really had time to buy furniture or anything."

"Is good," Pavel says under his breath, as if to himself. The younger man glances at him with a half-smile. "Is yours," he says, ducking his head. "So."

Hikaru almost extends the invitation, right then—but he hesitates too long, and by the time he opens his mouth Pavel is already across the room. "Where do I put my things?" he asks, and Hikaru pushes the words from his mind.

Pavel's been looking for an apartment for just as long as Hikaru has, so there will be other chances.

* * *

**4) Church**

Chekov stares as the fire consumes the synagogue roof. Sulu is running to him, ducking and firing as he goes, screaming; "Pavel! _Pavel!_" The navigator doesn't respond.

Hikaru's hand clamps around his arm and he begins to drag Pavel away, but the other man fights him, his eyes fixed on the flames. Hikaru shakes him, hard, and sense comes back to his eyes; he stumbles away with him then, away from the church and deeper into the city.

They hide in the remains of a bombed-out building. Pavel curls into a ball against the wall, and Hikaru collapses next to him. "Are you all right?" he asks. "Are you hurt?" The younger man shakes his head, then hunches over, lacing his fingers over his head.

"I am fine," he replies. His voice shakes, but his tone is firm. "I am just—" he lapses into silence. Hikaru can hear his frustration; he can't find the words.

Neither can he.

After a moment, he hears Pavel speaking in Russian: a prayer. Hikaru has never learned how to pray, so instead he bows his head and thinks, _We're alive, and we can make a difference._ Then he looks up at the sky, feeling Pavel warm against his side and listening to his voice, barely audible over the screams of the dying city. He listens and waits until the Enterprise warps them out of the war zone.

* * *

**5) Store**

"Hikaru," he whispers, fighting his way through the crowd. His eyes are locked on the man on the stage.

Sulu sags in the chains that tie him to the illuminated auction block. His skin shines with sweat and his head lolls on his shoulders, barely conscious. Chekov raises his hand and his voice, still struggling closer. "Six million," he shouts over the bustle and noise. The auctioneer blinks all five eyes in rapid succession.

"Six million imri," she repeats. "Six million. Further offers?" There is murmuring, but no one places a bid. "Sold for six million," the woman cries. Chekov stumbles with relief.

The price is paid and he's handed papers and instructions, his heart hammering in his chest like a caged bird. Finally, Sulu's taken to their tiny ship. Spock greets him at the door, his eyes flickering over the two of them, before he helps drag the unconscious man inside.

The Vulcan turns away to radio the Enterprise, and Chekov falls to the floor, cradling Sulu in his arms. "Hikaru, I am sorry," he says, freeing the other man from the web of chains and locks. "Is my fault, I did not expect, I am sorry—"

"...Pavel?" The voice is raw, but unmistakably Hikaru's. He reaches up a shaking hand and tangles it in the young man's hair. "Pavel," he breathes, incredulous.

"Sorry—" he can't stop saying it.

Hikaru smiles up at him, his eyes watering with exhaustion. "My hero," he says with a weak chuckle, letting his head thunk back against the floor of the ship. His eyes close.

He's oblivious to the kiss Pavel presses to his forehead, and the promise that he whispers against his skin.

* * *

**6) Restaurant**

"Do you know any good restaurants?" Hikaru asks, chewing idly on the end of his pen. Pavel looks up.

"What?"

"Restaurants," he repeats; then he grins. "I've got a date."

Pavel's grip on his book slackens slightly. "Ah."

"So...know any?"

"Russian ones," he replies automatically, turning the page, and Hikaru scoffs; of course. "Tell her to try the haladetz," he adds. "Is delicious, she will love it."

The next day, Sulu appears on his doorstep with a sour expression. "Haladetz," he says, "is congealed fish jelly served on top of ice-cold fish."

_"Da,"_ he says with a quick nod. "Is very good, my mother made it all the time."

Hikaru's eyes narrow, and Pavel cocks his head. "She did not like it? _Hikaru,_" he says with sympathy, pulling him inside, gesturing to the table where a bottle of vodka already waits, "Her taste is no good, then."

"_Nobody_ could like that," Hikaru protests, but Pavel just shakes his head.

"Only the best things come from Russia," he says firmly, raising the bottle of vodka to prove his point. "Come, sit. And do not worry! There will be others."

Pavel just thinks the next one won't be a girl.

* * *

**7) Dance Club**

Another man walks onto the bridge, and their eyes meet.

He remembers this man. He met him at a party once, back at the academy, and they'd talked for hours over a growing pile of empty glasses. When everyone else had left, they sat alone together in the dark, and this man had brushed hesitant fingers over his lips, and then one kiss had led to another, and when he'd woken up the next morning, the man was gone.

The new arrival looks shaken; Pavel breaks the eye contact, his eyes flickering over the numbers for the thousandth time. He listens as the man slides into the chair beside him. So. The pilot.

The bridge is filled with a soft hubub as people settle in and systems come online. They still have a few minutes. Pavel hesitates—and then turns to him. The other man looks up.

"I'm Pavel," he says, trying to smile.

The other man is quiet for a second too long, and Pavel's smile begins to fade.

"Hikaru," the pilot finally says in a rush. "Hikaru Sulu." His gaze flickers away and back.

"I am looking forward to working with you, Mr. Sulu," Pavel says, trying to sound casual.

Hikaru gives him a searching look, trying to determine if he's serious. He is, and so after a moment, the older man gives him a small smile.

"Pavel, right?" he says. Chekov's heart squeezes. "I guess I am too."

The navigator smiles down at the console. He won't let this second chance pass him by.

* * *

**8) Dreams**

Three years into their mission, Pavel still dreams of earth.

They're in California, driving along the winding coastal highway that he's only heard about. Hikaru bends low over his motorcycle and Pavel's arms are wrapped around his waist. The older man turns his head to yell something; he can't hear it through the roar of the wind, but he smiles and nods anyway. Hikaru laughs, and the bike curves around the next turn like magic.

Pavel presses himself against Hikaru's back, seeking shelter from the wind. His smell is so familiar after all the time they spend together, but in the real world, they've never touched like this. Below them, the ocean crashes against the sheer cliffs, the waves spreading like petticoats on the rocks.

_If I could die like this,_ he thinks, _If I could die right now—_

That's when he realizes that it's only a dream.

He clutches tighter to Hikaru, then, pressing against his warmth. He never wants this to end, but it always does; perhaps it always will. For now, he closes his eyes and holds onto what he can.

* * *

**9) Siblings**

Pavel wanders into Hikaru's dorm room, looking for the astrophysics notes he'd lent him at lunch, and stops short when he sees the girl sitting on the bed.

"Oh!" She gets up quickly, brushing at her skirt. "Are you Hikaru's roomate? I didn't mean—"

"No, I'm—a friend," he says. The words sound false when they come out of his mouth, but isn't it the truth? "Are you Sulu's...?" Hikaru has never mentioned girls before.

"Sister," she finshes with a smile, and his eyes widen with sudden understanding. "Hikaru hasn't mentioned me?"

He shakes his head, a nervous laugh slipping from his throat; "No, no, I—"

"Hey, Pavel," Sulu says from behind him, "Are you looking for—Misaki?" The older man peers over his shoulder before Pavel can move out of the way. "What are you doing here?"

"Can't I visit?" the girl says (Misaki, Chekov reminds himself, another difficult name to add to the list). "We live fifteen minutes away!"

Chekov stares at Sulu, feeling a little out of his depth. The older man glances at him, then chuckles.

"This is Pavel," he says. "Pavel, Misaki."

Chekov quickly gathers his notes and flees the room. As the door closes behind him, he hears, "He's cute!" He feels his face heat. "So...are you and...?"

He hears Sulu's surprised laugh through the door, and he bites his lip, scolding himself.

Isn't it the truth?

* * *

**10) Loyalty**

"He has done nothing," Chekov shouts. "Nothing wrong! You have no evidence, no proof, nothing—"

"Ensign," Kirk says warningly, but he will not be silenced.

"Hi—He—Mr. Sulu," he stammers, chasing Kirk across the bridge, "He would not do this, this thing. He is no traitor, he—"

"_Enough, Mr. Chekov!_" he roars, but again it does no good; Chekov will not stop, does not stop until security drags him to the brig and throws him in with Hikaru.

"Pavel," he says. "Not you too?"

"No, no," he says, "I was too noisy, the _keptin_ threw me here. Hikaru—are you all right?"

Hikaru nods, then places his head back in his hands. "God. I can't believe this is happening."

"You are innocent," Pavel declares, and Hikaru looks up with surprise. "Is true, yes?" he asks, his blue eyes flashing. Hikaru chuckles weakly.

"You're probably the only person on this ship who thinks that."

"I would never doubt you, Hikaru," he says. In a moment of bravery, he places his hand over the other man's. "Never."

* * *

**11) Infatuation**

Chekov's never really learned how to make a bed. He struggles with the bedsheets, trying to make them lie flat, smoothing out the whorls and creases that mark where they slept—Sulu here, Chekov there.

There had been an exhausting mission, a toast or two or three, and they'd fallen asleep—innocent, all of it. But now Hikaru is gone, and Pavel shakes his head, trying to clear his racing thoughts.

Made-up beds always look so inviting, Pavel thinks, but today his bed just looks...empty.

He sinks onto the mattress and drags the sheets over his head. He stretches, feeling the cool cloth slide against his skin, before he grabs the pillow and curls around it.

He breathes in, deeply. _Hikaru,_ he thinks, _Hikaru, Hikaru._ His eyes close.


End file.
